


The Search

by Juno999



Series: After the Storm (Post-canon ASOUE) [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, First Love, Friendship, Happy Ending, Insomnia, It All Ends Well, Love Triangles, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-01-15 08:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18495526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juno999/pseuds/Juno999
Summary: What were the Quagmires doing after they picked up Quigley from the Anwhistle Aquatics?A companion piece to my other fic The reunion.Descriptions are hard. :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever answer the questions that nobody asked?  
> Like, how did Quigley even get to the Anwhistle Aquatics? When did his siblings pick him up from there? What was their family butler's name and what happened to him after the fire? (he seems like a pretty nice person and those pancakes looked hella good :)  
> Anyway, here is my way of trying to make sense of it all and also writing a companion piece to my other quiglet fic.  
> The timeline of the events is kinda fuzzy and it will diverge from cannon a little.  
> Hope you all enjoy!  
> Thank you to all the folks, who left kudos on my previous fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Quigley is stranded.

Quigley Quagmire was stranded on the burned remains of the Anwhistle Aquatics. It has been over a week since he met Kit Snicket and got sent out on a mission to retrieve the sugar bowl. Over a week since he last saw Baudelaires at the bottom of the stairs leading into Gorgonian Grotto. Over a week since the sugar bowl got carried away by the VFD carrier crows and months since Quigley last saw his siblings. Being alone, for such an extended period of time, has been a new experience for him and Quigley could not say he enjoyed it much. Since birth and until the faithful fire at the Quagmire mansion the triplets were practically inseparable. They shared their bedroom, library, classroom, backyard, everything. At times they had arguments, at times they got tired of each other and spent time apart, but never too long. Never too far apart.  
Quigley tried to imagine what his siblings could be doing now. Isadora would be reading a new poetry book to gather inspiration for her own poems. Duncan would be looking through various newspapers and comparing the facts presented in them, making notes in his commonplace book. There was no information about the two Quagmire triplets or the self-sustaining hot air mobile home in any of the Volunteer Factual Dispatches he had received, while at Anwhistle Aquatics. Quigley had learned about the fire at Hotel Denouement, that the last safe place was not safe anymore, that the VFD organization was in disarray, that the Baudelaires went missing and that they were last seen with Count Olaf. He had spent days staring at the telegraph and yet no other dispatches have come. Now, he sat outside of the burned building, leaning against the remaining wall and hoping to see something on the horizon. Maybe the helicopter that dropped him off would reappear, maybe the carrier crows would bring him more food rations, that he had requested from VFD, maybe the boat, that had carried the Baudelaires off the roof of the Hotel Denouement, would appear, or maybe he would see the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. The horizon, however, remained bare.  
The situation was looking quite grim. Quigley rampaged through his backpack, calculating the amount of provisions and water he had left. It didn’t look like he would last more than a few days. Water was his main concern, as he could stretch the food for longer. Quigley thought, that if Violet was there, she could build a water filtration device with the equipment that remained in the lab. The thought of Violet warmed his heart, though the outside air remained bitterly cold. He hoped that, wherever she is, she is safe and happy, and gets to work on her many inventions. Quigley continued to look through his backpack, hoping to find something else that could be useful. There were maps, and commonplace books, his own and Kit Snicket’s, books on codes and hidden locations and a few remaining granola bars. Suddenly his fingers felt a soft touch of silk. Quigley pulled out a dark purple silk ribbon, he had picked it up at the department store in the city.

It happened on the way to the helicopter launch pad, as Quigley was about to be sent off on his mission.Kit was very understanding, even though they were in a hurry, and even helped him pull some money together to buy the ribbon. When they arrived, the helicopter had no pilot.  
“Ms. Snicket,” he started hesitantly, as he wouldn’t be surprised if Kit have asked him to fly the helicopter. She already have asked how fast he could swim and if he could make it all the way to Gorgonian Grotto.  
“Please call me Kit,” she replied quickly. “And don’t worry, I wouldn’t have you pilot the helicopter by yourself.”  
“I was thinking you would make me swim all the way to the grotto. I am a pretty good swimmer, but it is beyond my capabilities, at the moment. I don’t know how to pilot the helicopter either.”  
“It’s never too early to learn for a volunteer.” Kit noted. “But we don’t have much time and flying would be the fastest way to get there, right now. Our pilot should be here momentarily.”  
“And I am,” Quigley heard a familiar voice. “I apologize to keep you waiting.”  
“Lawrence!” he gasped in disbelief, as he saw their family butler approach the helicopter.  
“At your service,” Lawrence responded warmly. “It is good to see that you are well, Quigley, but we must hurry.”  
“It seems like everyone, I have ever known, is connected to VFD somehow,” Quigley commented to Kit, as he watched Lawrence climb into the helicopter.  
“Your family had deep ties to the organization,” Kit replied. “Just like mine, just like the Baudelaires’. We all had our roles to play and some paid too high of a price for it. Thank you, for picking up this mission. It is of upmost importance that the sugar bowl does not end up with the fire starting side of the schism.”  
“I understand,” Quigley said confidently. “I volunteered after all.”  
“You are such a brave soul,” there was sadness in Kit’s voice. “Just like your parents.…” She pulled a commonplace book out of her shoulder bag. “Here. It contains all of my notes. If things go according to plan, after Thursday I won’t need it anymore.”  
“And if they won’t?” Quigley wondered.  
“And if they won’t, you will need it more than I will,” she replied. “I will try to locate and contact the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. They are not currently connected to the Volunteer Factual Dispatch system, so it complicates things. But if everything goes according to plan, you will see Duncan and Isadora on Thursday, at the last safe place.”  
“And the Baudelaires?” he asked hopefully.  
“Oh, you might see them much sooner,” Kit smiled. “According to my agent, Klaus was the one who did the calculations for the location of the sugar bowl and they are currently on board of Queequeg. Their circumstances are quite dangerous though. That is why we are sending you there. You might be able to give that ribbon to Violet later today.”  
Quigley couldn’t help, but feel the corners of his mouth move upward. Kit looked at him with understanding and hugged him before he climbed into the helicopter.  
“Lawrence, I will be in touch. Stay safe, Quigley.”  
“I will”

It all happened over a week ago. Quigley run the ribbon through his fingers. The colour was lovely. It would have complimented Violet’s features perfectly, if only he had a chance to give it to her. It felt like a dream, when he heard her voice and saw her face again, but the moment was tactlessly interrupted by the waxing poisonous fungus. A fleeting hope that he would not be alone anymore, was snatched away from him. All the time he spent together with the Baudelaires, with Violet, was mercilessly short. The memory of the moment they shared halfway up the frozen waterfall and the ribbon he got for her after, continued to exist as small reminders of how wonderful life could be. Quigley tucked the ribbon away in the book of poems by John Donne, that Kit insisted he took with him. It was similar to the one on the Italian Renaissance poetry, that Isadora received for their last birthday. Duncan got a new fountain pen and Quigley got a compass. Of course, all of those gifts had perished in the fire. As did their house. As did their parents. But he survived and he did not survive the fire, the snow scout troop and all of Carmelita’s awful stories, the terrifying toboggan ride down the frozen waterfall and his ski trip back to the city, and the most unpleasant conversation with Mr. Poe, just to expire at the abandoned laboratory. Quigley got up, ready to try to send another dispatch to VFD again, when he spotted something on the horizon. He pulled out the spyglass to take a closer look at the object that was quickly approaching him and a smile grew across his face. It was the self-sustaining hot air mobile home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Quagmire triplets are finally reunited, they share their stories and decide on what they are going to do next.

“And none of her songs even rhymed!” Isadora grimaced at the memory of Carmelita Spatz. Once Quigley climbed up to the deck of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, after tearful hellos and hugs, the triplets have settled over dinner and shared the stories about their recent experiences.  
“I bet it was driving you insane,” Quigley, responded, amused at the similarity of their impression of Carmelita. “At least you didn’t have to listen to any of her campfire stories. I feel like there were thousands and they went on forever. The snow gnats were half less unpleasant.”  
“Carmelita Spats is by far one of the most unpleasant people I have encountered,” Duncan carried on with the conversation. “It is just our luck that all three of us had the displeasure of meeting her.”  
“We have met many wonderful and noble people, as well. Like our guardians, or Hector, or the Baudelaires,” Isadora insisted. “We are alive and the three of us are together. I would count us pretty lucky after all.” She smiled at her brothers. Duncan looked at her in agreement, as he reached for the pocket, where his commonplace book used to be. He remembered that it was long gone and frowned at the thought, that he couldn’t write down. Quigley was busy helping himself to another portion of chicken enchiladas, that Hector prepared for them.  
“You need to slow down, Quigley,” Duncan said teasingly.  
“It’s a first warm meal I have had in a while,” Quigley wasn’t at all bothered by his brother’s comment. “I have almost forgotten how food tastes like, when it’s not canned or dried.”  
“Father always said that a good meal is good for the soul,” Isadora remembered. “I am glad that the three of us get to share a meal together again. I do wonder, though where did Hector go. He worked so hard on this meal and he barely ate himself.”  
“I think, he said something about getting a surprise for us. He will be back soon, I’m sure” Duncan replied leaning back in his chair.  
Isadora nodded, as she looked closely at her brothers. They were sitting on opposite sides of the table and she couldn’t help, but notice how much they have changed in their time apart. To an unfamiliar eye, Duncan and Quigley looked like mirror images of each other, the only difference being, the way each one combed his hair. The similarity was only skin deep, as their personalities and characters were quite distinct from each other and yet oddly complementary. Now the two brothers’ appearances have diverged greatly. Duncan remained prim and proper. He kept his hairstyle short and combed neatly, reminiscent of the way it was when their parents were still with them. His uniform, a souvenir from Prufrock prep, remained clean and tidy in all of their perils, though he was noticeably growing out of it. The deep shadows under his eyes, however, betrayed his calm and collected demeanour. Quigley was never as careful about his image as Duncan, so his hairstyle and appearance was always messier in comparison. In their time apart, his hair grew positively wild. His clothes were more practical and comfortable, then nice looking, as well as were showing significant signs of wear. Quigley’s face looked worn out by both sun and wind and had a harsher expression, then Isadora could remember. She wondered how different did she look now and what would father and mother say if they saw their triplets now. They all grew older in their time part. They were not children anymore and were growing in their respective roles. A journalist, a poet, a cartographer.  
“And here is the surprise,” Hector’s voice dragged Isadora out of her thoughts. “A tres leches cake! I thought, since it is our first dinner together, we should have a celebration!”  
“That’s wonderful, Hector!” Isadora said. Though she was not that fond of the cake, she was happy to share it with her family. “I’ll get us some tea started.”  
“I can’t recall the last time I had cake, or dessert for that matter,” Quigley seemed excited.  
“Remember, at our last birthday Mother had to get us three different cakes, because we couldn’t agree on what we wanted,” Duncan recalled nostalgically. “Hector has made this cake for us before though and I quite enjoyed it.”  
“I can’t wait to try it, then,” Quigley already grabbed himself a slice.  
Isadora had a small slice of cake with her tea to be polite, as she watched in amusement, how her brothers made short work of the cake. It felt odd. They have never agreed on liking the same things before.

The next morning Isadora found Quigley and Hector in the basket, that served them as a library, setting up a small black box on the table.  
“What are you working on there?” she wondered.  
“A telegraph,” Quigley responded. “I grabbed the one from the Anwhistle Aquatics laboratory. It has not been used for years anyway.”  
“I think I should be able to link it to the Volunteer Factual Dispatch system,” Hector added. “It would be convenient to be connected to VFD again.”  
“We should stay in contact,” Quigley agreed. “After all, we don’t know when some useful information will come our way.”  
“Like what?” Duncan has joined the conversation, while sipping on his morning coffee. “Breakfast is ready by the way,” he added.  
“Anything really. Newspapers, books, maps. With the fire fighting side still retaining the control of the carrier crows we can request all sort of things and get them delivered.”  
“Didn’t you told us, that the organization was in disarray after the fire at hotel Denouement?” Isadora was somewhat sceptical.  
“As long as there are noble and well read people to pick up the torch the organization will continue to exist...”Quigley assured his siblings. “At least that is what Kit Snicket told me.”  
“If the organization is still functioning, what are you planning to do once we contact them?” Isadora voiced the question, that both Duncan and her had on their mind.  
“Send out some messages. Get us some new clothes to start. I can’t imagine you wan to wear the Prufrock Prep uniforms for the rest of your life,” he replied.  
“We also need supplies to continue repairs on the self-sustaining hot air mobile home,” Hector added. “The damage from the eagle attack was greater than I thought.”  
“So we will get new clothes, repair materials for the mobile home, and then what?” Duncan wasn’t convinced yet.  
“And then I want to collect more information to help us in our search.”  
Isadora looked back at her brother, who appeared unflinching in his resolve. It has been a while since she has seen that stubborn look in his eyes  
“What search?” Duncan shook his head in confusion.  
“Didn’t I tell you? We are going to look for our missing friends. We are going to find the Baudelaires!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here is Chapter 2.  
> I did struggle with it quite a bit. Partially because I find Isadora really hard to write, but decided to make her the POV for this chapter. I also changed my plan half way through writing this one and decided to split this chapter in two, because it was growing to be way too long. There are also parts of it that I don’t quite like... but anyway I’ll move on to my next chapter and hopefully it will be easier


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Quagmires continue to collect information to aid in their search.

The clicks and tones of the telegraph brought a smile to Isadora’s face every morning. With her natural talent for memorizing verses, her sense of rhyme and rhythm and vast knowledge of poetry, she had mastered the Verse Fluctuation Declaration code in no time. The code, that she had only read about in the Incomplete History of Secret Organizations, was now at her fingertips. Isadora happily took on the responsibility of sending and receiving Volunteer Factual Dispatches and was thrilled to use her talent and knowledge in their search for the Baudelaires. It was simply too much fun! Sometimes she wondered if her own couplets would become well known enough to be used for the code. Isadora’s mind was bustling with rhymes, and rhythms and all the possibilities for her poems.  
The messages were few and far between, even though it has been a few weeks since the fire at hotel Denouement. The organization was taking longer time, then they expected, to put itself back together. After all VFD lost some of their best field agents and their last safe place.Isadora was currently working on deciphering a dispatch, they have received that morning from the submarine crew.  
“Any news?” Duncan settled next to her, with a few books he pulled from the shelves and his usual cup of coffee.  
“Not much,” she replied. “There are no signs of a sunken sailboat in the quadrant that the submarine has searched.”  
“Well, at least we know that they didn’t sink…not in that quadrant of the ocean, anyway.”  
“Anything is useful to us at the moment. How is your investigation going?”  
“A lot of information that we already knew. There are some new details, though,” he pulled Kit Snicket’s commonplace book out of his pocket. “There are a few facts I want to double check. And there is a code you might be interested in, as well. It is a variation of the Verse Fluctuation Declaration, I think.”  
“I’ll take a look at it later,” Isadora returned to the telegraph, focusing on sending a reply to Fiona and Fernald. Quigley would want to a request for the search of the next quadrant of the ocean floor sent out right away.  
Duncan sipped on his coffee and flipped through Kit’s notes, comparing them to the books on islands and ocean currents, he had grabbed. He thought back to his sister and him feverishly reading through the Incomplete History of Secret Organizations, back at Prufrock Prep library and couldn’t help but chuckle.  
“Found something funny in the notes?” Isadora wondered, looking up from the telegraph.  
“Just reminiscing to our time at Prufrock Prep school,” he replied. “I never thought, I would miss our old broom closet.”  
“We did have some fun moments there,” she agreed. “Especially once we met the Baudelaires.”  
“It was quite nice,” Duncan smiled back. “Do you really think we will be able to find them?”  
“Mother always said that there is nothing we can’t do, as long as the three of us are working together. What are you planning to do when it happens? Finally tell Violet how you feel?” She was teasing, obviously, but have really struck a nerve. Seeing her brother loose his cool and choke on his coffee amused Isadora to no extent. His reply was shaky and unsure. “I think, I might need some time to plan it out.”  
“If anything, we do have time. Don’t overthink it, though,” there was caution in her voice. “Your last plan didn’t exactly work out. Sometimes simple words are the best.”  
“Best for what?” Quigley asked, as he walked into the library and into their conversation.  
“For taking notes,” Duncan responded quickly, changing the subject.  
Quigley shrugged, seeming slightly confused by the topic of their discussion. “As long as it works for you, I guess. I prefer to draw sketches, to have a visual reference.” He tossed a fresh copy of Daily Punctilio to his brother. “The carrier crows just delivered it this morning. It's not much, or not that good, but I figured you would like to look through it.”  
“I’ll take what I can, thank you. It has been so long, since I got to read an actual newspaper, that I am even happy to see Daily Punctilio.” Once Duncan read through the headlines, his expression changed from calm and hopeful to a painful grimace.  
“What does it say?” Isadora wondered.  
“The incredible talking pug will give his last performance at Theatre Orpheus,” he read the headline out loud. “I don’t know what I was expecting from Daily Punctilio at this point. This isn’t even their usual misinformation anymore. It’s just tabloid sensationalism!”  
“I’ll try to request some better correspondence for us going forward. Although, I think it is good to keep tabs on Daily Punctilio too,” their sister was as practical, as always.  
“Once we come of age and can access our fortune, you can run your own newspaper,” Quigley added. “With your skills for investigation and natural attention to facts, it would be the most well-informed publication in the city. “  
Duncan’s face beamed in response. “That is a splendid idea. We can use our inheritance to open a publishing house. I can work as a newspaper editor, Isadora can print her poetry books and you can publish travel guides and draw maps.”  
“And if we find the Baudelaires, they can work with us!” Isadora continued. “Klaus can curate the books we publish, and Violet could design and construct a printing press, and Sunny…”  
“When,” Quigley interrupted.  
“Pardon?”  
“Not if we find the Baudelaires, when we find them,” his face had a harsh expression on it. “At least, I don’t intend to stop looking for them, until we find them…”  
“Quigley…” Duncan started, but his brother shook his head indicating that this conversation was over.  
“Let’s get back to work,” he said sitting down at the table, across from Duncan. “Do you have the dispatch from the submarine decoded, Isadora?”  
“Yes,” she passed the message to him, while sharing a worried look with Duncan. Quigley unrolled one of his many maps and started marking the areas that have been searched by the submarine. Isadora didn’t say anything else, knowing too well how stubborn he can be. She also knew, the demons that plagued her brothers. And if Duncan’s didn’t’t let him sleep, Quigley’s came out in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, here is Chapter 3 and I don't know what happened. As much as I struggled with Isadora in the last chapter, in this one I had no problems with her. I actually really enjoy this chapter. Hopefully I can keep the momentum going for Duncan's chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Duncan can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter are at the end of Chapter 5

The night was quiet, too quiet for his liking. Once his siblings fell asleep one by one, Duncan was left alone with his thoughts. The three of them sharing the room again, even if it was a basket with hammocks attached to the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, instead of their former lavish bedroom, felt right. It was, as if a missing piece of the puzzle finally fell in place. Hector proved to be an extremely helpful and caring guardian, who supported the triplets in their search for the Baudelaires on every turn. Even with all the hiccups and missteps, they were continually learning more about VFD and what happened to their friends, after the fire at Hotel Denouement. It felt like they were getting closer to solving the mystery. Yet, night after night, Duncan remained awake, listening to Isadora’s calm breath, to Quigley murmuring in his sleep and to the dull hum of the engine, that kept the self-sustaining hot air mobile home afloat. It was as if some unknown force wouldn’t let him sleep. At times like this he envied Quigley, who never had much trouble falling asleep and was by far the deepest sleeper out of the three of them. That was the reason why they never doubt that the fire at the Quagmire mansion took his life. Not being able to fall asleep that night saved their brother’s life. Isadora’s sleep was lighter in comparison to Quigley’s, as Duncan would often saw her wake up from the sound of thunder or strong gusts of wind. She shared her trick, to fall asleep quickly, by reciting her favourite poems over and over, but he didn’t find it helpful.  
The night was dark. Not as dark as the elevator shaft of 667 Dark Avenue, or the inside of the Fowl Fountain. The small lamp, that Isadora left on, brought out a warm light, but it was not enough to keep the shadows in the corners of his mind at bay. During his sleepless nights Duncan often thought back to his last conversation with his parents. What did he say to them? Anything different other than usual goodnight pleasantries? What would he say if he knew it would be the last time he would see them? How would they respond? There were no answers for these questions, but his mind, used to investigations and analysis, kept going in circles around them. There were other conversations, Duncan wished would have gone differently, like the last time he spoke with Violet. One could hardly even call it a conversation at all. His lame attempt at hiding his feelings and her seeing right through it, and the tremendous hope that she understood what he meant. Duncan had a plan that once they were safe and far away from the villains, he would tell Violet all about how he felt. He thought of a grand confession, that never happened and in its place all he could master were a few cliches, that meant nothing and everything and a painful goodbye. Somehow the presence of that girl always made him lose all of his words. He hoped to see her once again and finally let his feelings be known. One could hope, that their search would turn out to be successful, it would not however change one thing. He failed.  
He failed. This thought was too persistent. No matter how many times Duncan tried to drown it out with stanzas from poems, that he had committed to memory, with excerpts from various novels, that his parents read to him, with articles, that he planned to write. The thought was always there. Once the light of the day faded, once the conversations with his siblings dwindled, and all he could hear were their calm breath and sleep murmuring and the dull sounds of the engine, it was there, right as rain. He failed. He couldn’t save his parents, he thought his brother dead, he didn’t keep his sister safe, he couldn’t help his friends escape a dangerous villain and he never even told that girl how he really felt. The crippling sense of failure has followed Duncan almost every night. Ever since they were kidnapped from Prufrock Prep. There were nights, when he would collapse out of sheer exhaustion and was able to sleep, but they never felt restful. He was too aware that this failure would always follow him.  
Duncan sat up in his hammock and looked around. It was hard to tell, whenever it was late or early. The window cut in the wall of the basket only showed the dark sky above and the sea of clouds below. As he was well aware, his siblings were sleeping. Isadora was holding on to the book, she was reading before bed. Duncan noticed, that she finally got her hands on the John Donne poetry book. Quigley seemed weirdly attached to it ever since they rescued him from Anwhistle Aquatics and Isadora was keen on finding out why. Their brother, usually preferred books on maps, geography, navigation, and travelling, with wilderness survival guides being some of Quigley’s favourites. He would look through some of Isadora’s poetry books on occasion, but they never seem to keep his attention. Now, Duncan would often catch him flipping through the pages of that book. Quigley himself looked restless, with his blanket all twisted and his pillow on the floor. His voice was growing louder, as if he was crying out for somebody long lost. Duncan got out of his hammock and walked across the basket to check on his brother and once he approached closer he heard, who Quigley was calling for.  
“Violet!”  
Duncan’s heart sank, as he heard that name. All the thoughts rushed through his head, like the pieces of the puzzle finally falling in place. Quigley behaving so odd lately, his determination to find the Baudelaires, and even that book, he seemed to never let go off. Even a slim chance of him falling asleep this night was gone now. This required some coffee.With a fresh pot in hand, Duncan headed to the library, hoping that reading would distract him from this sudden discovery. They have never agreed on liking the same things before. Two mirror images of each other, their personalities and preferences remained distinct and different. And yet for the first time Duncan and his brother agreed on something, they both liked the same girl. The girl that meant the world to him. The girl, who was significant enough for Quigley to call for in his sleep. Duncan stared aimlessly at the random book, he pulled from the shelf not even registering the words he was reading. He tapped his pencil on the table and slowly sipped on his coffee. The night was quiet. The night was dark. The night was going to be long.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Quigley has nightmares and Isadora talks a lot (in fact everybody talks a lot in general)

The dream always started the same. First, father’s face disappearing in the doorway, after he wished them a good night. Then, mother shutting down the secret door, that lead to the underground tunnel, behind him. She promised that she would come back for him after she made sure that everyone else was safe. She never did. After that, he would see Duncan and Isadora vanish into the darkness, as if being pulled away by a pair of greedy hands. The Baudelaires carried away down the frozen stream. Kit Snicket growing smaller as she waved at him from the helicopter launchpad. And finally, Violet’s voice cut off by the sound of him shutting down the heavy door at the top of the stairs at Anwhistle Aquatics. The last glimpse of her face lost to the shadows of the Gorgonian Grotto. The dream always ended the same too. With Quigley isolated at the top of the abandoned laboratory in deafening silence, calling the names of the ones he lost. At the end of the dream he was always alone.  
“Quigley!” He woke up to the sound of Isadora’s voice. His sister was standing next to him gently shaking his shoulder. “Quigley, are you alright?”  
“I’ve been better. What time is it?” He rubbed his eyes and looked around, trying to make sense of the surroundings.  
“Late or early…” Isadora gestured at the window, where the sky was still dark.  
“Why did you wake me up?”  
“You were kinda loud,” she shrugged. “Bad dream?”  
“The worst,” Quigley was slowly shaking off the remainder of his dream. “Where is Duncan? Did I wake him, too?”  
“In the library, I think. He usually goes there to read if he can’t fall asleep,” Isadora sounded worried.  
“It seems to be happening more often lately,” he replied. “Between the three of us we could scramble a decent amount of sleep for one person.” Isadora laughed, though her laughsounded more forced than natural. “We have been through a lot after all...it takes time to recover.”  
“How are you dealing with all of this?”  
“I manage,” Quigley noticed, that she had hid her left hand behind her back, as she was talking. He frowned, remembering the state, that her hands and nails were in now. Always kept tidy, clean and short before, Isadora’s nails were now, broken and bitten off, with the skin around them covered in cuts, sores and scrapes. She picked up a habit of biting on her nails and picking her cuticles, when nervous. Even now as more time passed after their kidnapping and they were finally feeling as safe as they could be, that habit would still return and prevent her hands from properly healing.  
“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your book,” Isadora tried to change the subject and held up the John Donne poetry book. “It’s been a while since I stayed up reading so late.”  
“It’s alright. Found anything interesting in it?”  
“John Donne is a little old fashioned for my taste, but there were a few poems I have enjoyed. A curious bookmark you have here though.” Quigley sat up, staring at his sister - she was teasingly holding up a dark purple silk ribbon. “It looks like you got it for a certain girl we know. I take it, you have soft spot for Violet.”  
“So you know, then,” he stated, more than asked.<  
“Oh, I knew for a while.”  
“You have always been very observant.”  
“You are just not very good at hiding it,” she replied lightheartedly. “You should see the look in your eyes, when you talk about her. You know, you were calling her name in your sleep.” Quigley looked away, as he felt his face was growing red. He was speechless. His sister however remained eager to talk. “Come on, let’s chat about it…I’ll make us some tea.”  
Nothing was left for him to do, then climb out of his hammock and follow Isadora to the kitchen. The altitude kept the air on the deck of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home quite cold, even though they were nearing the middle of summer. Once they reached the kitchen tea was most certainly welcome. Quigley grabbed two clean mugs and settled at the table, while Isadora boiled the water.  
“What kind of tea are you making?” he wondered, watching her prepare the pot and tea leaves.  
“Darjeeling, it was one of mother’s favourites,” Isadora said, as she sat down. “Find yourself a cup of tea, Now tell a hundred tales to me.”  
“I think you already know most of the tales I had to tell,” remembering the subject of their conversation, made Quigley’s face grow red again.  
“You don’t even have to tell me anything, your face says it all.”  
“It’s weird. I haven’t spent that much time with Violet, but it feels like I’ve known her my whole life. And now it feels like part of me is missing,” he shook his head. “All of this sounds so hackneyed. I don’t know, what happened to me to my words.”  
“I know what it feels like. You meet someone and you feel an immediate connection,” Isadora noticed a funny look on her brother’s face and waived her hand dismissively. “Not like that,” she laughed. “I am more interested in her brother.”  
“We seem for get attached to others fast,” Quigley replied, with slight sigh of relief.  
Isadora nodded sipping on her tea. “I missed this. Just talking about normal things.”  
“Normal is a rarity for the three of us at the moment.”  
“It was awful to be separated like we were, thinking you were gone…I missed seeing you everyday,” she continued, with a hint of regret in her voice.  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Quigley tried to lighten the mood. “You could always look at Duncan, if you missed seeing my face.”  
“I don’t think I can anymore. You two look so different now,” Isadora shook her head.  
“It’s the hair.”  
“It’s more than that. I think it’s your distinct experiences. We were always together, when we were at Prufrock, when we got kidnapped, when we managed to escape with Hector. And you… you were all alone…” she was avoiding looking at him, staring into her cup of tea.  
“It was not that bad, I got to put all the skills I learned into practice. I have learn so many new things. I have travelled to places I have only read about before. Some days were worse than others, though. I almost forgot how my own name sounded like. On those days it really felt like I was dead. Meeting the Baudelaires saved me in some way. Hearing my name again for the first time made me feel alive.”  
“Was it Violet who said it?”  
“Do you even need to ask?”  
The two triplets sat in silence for a while finishing their tea.  
“I am so sorry,” Isadora finally looked up from her mug. “I am sorry we thought you were gone and I am sorry that we didn’t look for you.”  
“You didn’t know and honestly I was fine for the most part,” Quigley replied. “We are all together again now and I just want to find our friends.”  
“I do hope we will find them soon. I did receive some promising correspondence from the Duchess of Winnipeg after all,” Isadora sounded worried, despite her reassuring words. “You should know though, Duncan has feelings for her too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, here are Chapters 4 and 5.  
> Last month was hecking busy and I didn't have as much time to work on this as I would have liked to. Here you have two chapters, which were originally one chapter together with chapter 3 and part of chapter 2 actually...  
> I do really like how these two chapters end up being parallel to each other. I think chapter 3 remains my favourite so far.  
> Anyway, my boy Duncan. I felt so bad, that I did him dirty in my previous fic, but I feel like I am not doing much better here. I tried, I really did. As I rewatched the series him and Violet do have some nice chemistry with each other, so I tried to keep some of it here. Isadora somehow went from my least favourite character to write to my most favourite.  
> At this point, this fic has outgrown my original plan (it was supposed to be 5 chapters only!), but I'll keep going. I am curious and terrified to see how long it will end up being. I'll also be doing some small edits to the earlier chapters as I go (looking at you chapter 2), so keep an eye out for it as well. I'll mostly fix typos, which I have a ton and then bug me and some of the wording I was not happy with originally  
> On to the next chapter I move on, hopefully they won't take as long to write.  
> As always thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hector gets to be a good guardian and talks about his family.

“Did you and your brother had an argument?” Duncan looked up from the tomatoes, he was chopping for salsa, and stared at Hector in surprise. The triplets took turns helping their guardian with daily chores, such as cooking, cleaning and maintenance work on the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. Hector rarely spoke while working, unless it was absolutely necessary. He got used to working in silence during his time at the Village of Fowl Devotees, where he rarely had anybody helping him out, and found conversations distracting. Of course once all the tasks were done, Hector happily chatted with the triplets, sharing his stories, favourite recipes and discussing the books he had read. He must have been really concerned to break his usual silence and the question caught Duncan completely off guard.  
“Did you and Quigley had an argument?” Hector repeated, to make sure Duncan heard him. “You seem to be avoiding each other…”  
That was true. Without discussing it, the two of them have coordinated themselves to spend as little time together as possible. During meals, Duncan would finish his food quickly and excuse himself to get back to his investigation. For the time the triplets would usually spent in the library working on their corresponding tasks, Quigley would grab his maps and head out on the deck. His explanation was that he wanted to compare the maps to actual landmarks. Not a great one really, but his brother was never that good at lying. They all knew too well, that all Quigley would be able to see is the endless ocean and the passing clouds. At bedtime, Duncan would stay up and away from their bedroom for as long as possible, while Quigley would be the first one to settle down for the night. Whenever he was asleep or not was another thing entirely. The two of them were avoiding each other, afraid that the topic they didn’t want to discuss would inevitably come up in conversation. Isadora chose to let them be and sort it out on their own. She knew her brothers well enough to not try and force the talk between the two. Hector, who only knew them for a few months, remained concerned.  
“Not really,” Duncan replied, with a small sigh. “We just need some time apart.”  
“I see,” Hector nodded, as he started to fry the quesadillas. “It seems weird to see you three apart. You were practically inseparable before.”  
“It feels weird,” the triplet admitted. “Do you have any siblings, Hector?”  
“I have an older brother,” Hector answered his question, after some hesitation. “I haven’t spoken to him in years, though.”  
“Really?! Why?” Duncan wondered, slightly anxious to hear the answer.  
“It happens, when you grow up. He is 10 years older than me and we never had that much in common, so we never were very close. He finished his education, got married, had kids and I stayed with my Ma, after I finished my apprenticeship. Then we moved to the village and my brother remained in the city. He used to call and send letters, but less and less often, as the years passed. One day I woke up and realized that we haven’t spoken in months and when I tried to call him we had nothing to talk about anymore. We haven’t spoken since then. We grew too distant.”  
“I wonder if it will happen to us one day…”  
“I hope not,” Hector said, as he flipped the quesadilla on the other side. “You three have a special bond with each other. I hope it remains with you, even if you do have an argument from time to time.” Duncan returned to looking at the tomatoes, not knowing how to respond. Hector smiled understandably and continued. “I know how easy it is to lose touch with your siblings, so it does concern me, that you two are avoiding each other. Do try to talk to your brother sooner than later, just so you don’t lose the connection you have.”  
“I know,” Duncan replied. “It is difficult to start, though.”  
“Best to start simple,” Hector advised. “Back then you thought that Quigley was gone, have you ever thought of what you would say to him, if he was back?”  
“Yes, all the time.”  
“Well now the is actually back. You have a second chance, not a lot of people get that in this life,” Hector had a sad expression on his face, as he talked. “Tell him at least one thing that you thought of. You never know when he will be gone again.”  
“You are right,” Duncan agreed. “But the same goes for you. Try to talk to your brother, you might find some things in common, after all.”  
“May be I will,” Hector smiled. “Now let’s set up the table, shall we. The lunch is ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks, a shorter chapter this time around.  
> I really liked where this one ended, so I kept it short. I know that one of the theories for the books is that Hector is one of the three Anwhistle brothers, but since most of my fic is based on the Netflix Show, Hector gets a different family member. As per usual everybody talks a lot :)  
> Thank you to everyone for leaving kudos, you really keep me going!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Duncan and Quigley finally talk to each other.

Duncan found his brother on the deck of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. Quigley was surrounded by notes, sketches, marked map fragments, and all the relevant books he could find in the library. The materials, he had gathered during their search, outgrown the space they had in the library basket and wouldn’t even fit on the dining room table. On the large piece of grid paper, Quigley had drawn various landmarks. There were islands and shorelines, trenches and waterways, estuaries and deltas, shallows and depths, currents and their flow. With the help of his siblings and two submarine co-captains he managed to complete one of the most comprehensive and complete maps of the ocean. Quigley was just finishing up the pencil markings, before he moved to inking. Duncan stopped and stared in awe at the massive map of his brother’s creation. It was by far larger than any of the maps Quigley had drawn before. Of course their backyard, their street and the area of the city they lived in were not as vast as the ocean. As the world around them grew bigger and more dangerous, so did Quigley’s maps increased in size and details. And yet, so many mysteries in this world still remained undiscovered by the triplets and so many things remained to be found.  
“You look tired,” Duncan commented, as he sat down.  
“You are the one to talk,” Quigley shot back, not lifting his eyes off his work. “When was the last time you had a decent night sleep?”  
Duncan shrugged and choose not to say anything, as he was not quite sure of the answer himself. “That is quite an impressive map and so detailed too! You went a long way from drawing maps of our backyard.”  
“Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without you,” the other triplet finally looked up from the map. He appeared worn out, but satisfied with his work. “Without your investigation and Isadora’s communication with the submarine, I would have no information. Hector’s library and Kit Snicket’s commonplace book, were very useful as well. I am not quite done though.”  
“How come?”  
“I need a compass to check for the cardinal directions,” Quigley confessed. “I like my maps to be precise and I want to double check for any errors, before I start inking. I would like to avoid any simple mistakes.”  
“Like the one you made on the map of our backyard?” Duncan laughed, as he remembered one of his brother’s early maps.  
“That tree looked bigger, then it actually was and Isadora spilled ink on that one!”  
The map itself, as the brothers recalled, was framed by their parents and have found its home on the wall in their library. The Quagmire parents had great pride in their children and displayed their accomplishments on the wall, in their favourite room of the house, among the family photos. That wall had Quigley’s early maps, as well as Duncan’s first published articles and Isadora’s debut poems. That wall, of course, was long gone by now, together with their house, and their backyard, and their parents.  
“There is a compass on board, that Hector uses, “Quigley continued after a pause. “However, it is attached to the steering wheel and not as mobile as I need.”  
“I see, now I know what to get you for your next birthday,” Duncan was still captivated by the map, noting all the familiar spots, that they have seen from above. There was one peculiar location, that caught his interest. “Why is this island unmarked?”  
“I do not have a lot of materials on this location,” Quigley replied. “The current pattern around it is interesting, but the submarine crew did not get to explore it. They were on their way to the island, when they received another mission.”  
“Was it the message from Captain Widdershins?"  
“Indeed, it was. Fiona and Fernald promised, that they will return to explore the island, once they meet up with the Captain.”  
“That is nice,” Duncan said. “They will meet with their father and step-father. Their family will be reunited. It…it gives me a sense of hope.” “I feel that too,” his brother agreed. “Despite how enormous the world is, people still manage to find each other.”  


In the past year the Quagmire triplets did not have a lot of reasons to feel hopeful. Most experiences they have had, after the fire have destroyed their home and took their parents’ lives, were quite miserable. They were placed in an unpleasant and unnecessary boarding school, one of them was declared dead for months, they were kidnapped, have spent the most dreadful time at the bottom of the elevator shaft, smuggled out the town inside a giant statue of a red herring and most importantly got separated from their close friends. Hope, however, can be born out of the greatest misery. And at the moment the two Quagmire brothers were feeling quite hopeful. They were alive and they were together and together they could accomplish almost anything. Just like Fiona and Fernald were able to find Captain Widdershins, the Quagmires were hoping to one day find the Baudelaires. Hope is also a funny thing, not only it can be born out of great misery, it can also bring out an odd expression on your brother’s face. At least, that is how Quigley was looking like at the moment. The longing look in his eyes and the lopsided smile, were very familiar to Duncan. He had seen that expression on his brother’s face many times before, but now, he knew what it meant. Quigley’s thoughts were with a certain girl, who had long brown hair and a brilliant mind and a particular talent for inventing. Duncan wondered if he had a similar expression, when he thought about Violet Baudelaire, but quickly dismissed the thought and tried to banish it out of his mind. He found it really unnerving to look exactly like his brother in that moment. Duncan brought his attention back to map. “What does G.G. stand for?” he wondered.  
“The Gorgonian grotto,” Quigley eagerly explained. “It is located right underneath the Anwhistle Aquatics laboratory and it’s the home to the world’s deadliest fungus.”  
“Right, right, the Medusoid Mycelium. I came across the notes on it in my investigation,” Duncan continued to study the map. “It must have been nerve wrecking for you to descent into the grotto swarming with the deadly fungus.”  
“I actually didn’t know it was there, not until Violet told me about it. Right before I shut the door…”  
“You had the antidote though.”  
“What?!” Quigley’s voice broke. Duncan looked at his brother and saw the colour drain from his face. “What did you say?”  
“The sugar bowl,” he tried to clarify. “It is also known as the Vessel For Disaccharides. It contained sugar made from the rare breed of apples, infused with horseradish. It is one of the known antidotes and the only cure for Medusoid Mycelium poisoning. It was all in Kit Snicket’s notes.”  
A pencil dropped out of Quigley’s hand. He looked shaken and unbalanced. He let out a painful sigh, while leaning against the deck wall, and covered his face with his hand. Duncan has never seen his brother like that.  
“Quigley, are you alright?” There was no response, but a lone tear rolled down his brother’s face. “Quigley, you…you don’t cry…”  
“You haven’t seen me for months,” his voice sounded dull and dead.  
The truth hit Duncan heavily and now he felt shaken and unbalanced. The truth was that he hasn’t seen Quigley for months and that he always had Isadora by his side. They were separated from the moment the fire started in their house and until they have picked Quigley up from the burned remains of Anwhistle Aquatics. Duncan always had someone close by, a sibling to grieve with, a shoulder to cry on, a sister to confide with, someone he could lean on. Isadora was always there for him. Quigley, however, was all alone, until he met with Baudelaires in the Mortmain Mountains. Another realization hit Duncan in that moment. He moved closer to Quigley and patted his shoulder, in what he hoped, was a reassuring way.  
“Violet means that much to you?” he finally asked. Quigley lifted his hand from his face. His eyes were red and wet, but his gaze was unshaken. “Everything and more,” was his answer.  
“Even if, “ Duncan struggled with his words. “Even if, she might care for someone else?”  
“Even if, she only cared for me, because I reminded her of you!”  
They remained silent for a moment, each digesting the information they have just discovered. In that moment, the two brothers felt like at the same time, they have grown closer and further apart.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go folks! Sorry if this chapter took a while, but I really wanted to do it justice. ( I might edit it a bit for typos later, though). This one is really important for me, as it has honestly inspired the whole fanfic. Without that exchange I would have never started on this journey and here we are seven chapters in. I hope you enjoy this one, as it is obviously very important to me.  
> We are on the home stretch now, so there should be about 3 chapters left.  
> Love ya all who continue to give me kudos and who continue to read this monstrosity of a fanfic. I could not have done it without you!
> 
> I did get some more time this week and went over the whole fanfic to edit for typos and what not, so it should be a little nicer to read now. You folks are troopers, cause there was a ton and I can't believe I missed so many. I'll do another comb over before I post the final chapter to see if I catch any more. Thank you all once again, it really means so much to me that some many of you have read this fanfic!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an odd code makes an appearance.

“It’s not like you to be up so late,” Duncan’s voice pulled Isadora out of her thoughts. She turned towards her brother and saw him settling at the library table with newspaper clippings and his usual cup of coffee.  
“I hate to admit it, but I am really struggling with this code,” Isadora explained. “what about you? Having trouble falling asleep again?”  
Duncan made a vague gesture with his hand, that could be read in an affirming manner. “Quigley is planning to join us as well - he just received new meteorological maps from the carrier crows.”  
“I hope Hector will get enough sleep for the three of us,” Isadora laughed. “Is there anything useful in the newspapers?”  
“Esme Squalor is engaged to the King of Arizona and remains the sixth most important financial advisor,” Duncan started to read the headlines. “Justice Strauss have retired from her law career and is trying her talent as a theatre critic. The Herpetological Society is holding a memorial exhibit of Dr. Montgomery Montgomery’s reptile collection.”  
“No word about the Baudelaires?”  
He shook his head. “What about your code? Do you think it could be an anagram?”  
“I have tried that already,” Isadora replied. “In the Verse Fluctuation Declaration code words usually make up a cohesive sentence to create a message, but it does not work with this one. It’s not an anagram, or an aptagram, or a semordnilap…Not a palindrome for sure.”  
“It does sound like quite a challenge,” she heard Quigley say, as he appeared in the library entrance.

Isadora buried herself in her notes, while her brothers were sorting out theirs. Quigley got his meteorological maps and wanted to compare them to the newspaper reports Duncan had collected. Something didn’t feel right. Isadora chewed on her thumb, trying to collect her thoughts. She broke a nail on it earlier that day and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Just like this code did. Just like a creeping feeling that they were at a dead end in their investigation. The telegraph had been silent for days now. The newspapers still arrived regularly with the carrier crows, but not much else did. The arrival of the meteorological maps, that Quigley requested, felt like a miracle. It seemed that the three of them had collected all the information possible, but no trace of the Baudelaires could be found. Isadora felt irritated, upset and nervous. What if after all of their efforts the triplets will not be able to find their friends. All because she couldn’t crack this code.  
“Isadora,” Duncan called to her gently. “Isadora you are doing it again.”  
His words brought her attention to her nervous habit. She examined her thumb to see the damage, that had been done. It looked awful! The edge of the nail was rough and uneven, she had bitten off a good chunk of skin around it and the area she was biting at started bleeding. The rest of her hands didn’t look much better. Isadora blinked quickly, as she could feel tears gathering in her eyes.  
“You really did a number on it this time,” Quigley noted. He left his notes and maps on the table and walked over to her. He looked through the pockets of his jacket, pulled out an adhesive bandage and applied it to Isadora’s damaged thumb. Duncan was at her other side a minute later, passing her a box of tissues.  
“There, this should be better,” Quigley said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “It will heal soon, so there is no need to cry.”  
“It’s not that,” Isadora sobbed. “I just thought of what would mother say, if she saw me like this…”  
“That she is very proud of you,” Quigley assured her.  
“That you are a brilliant, intelligent and perceptive,” Duncan added. “And that there is nothing the three of us can’t do, as long as we are together.”  
“Duncan is right, no silly VFD code stands a chance against the Quagmire triplets! So let us lend you a hand,” Quigley concluded.  
Isadora smiled, no matter whatever dead end she was at, as long as her brothers were by her side, they could overcome it together. She grabbed Quigley by his shoulder and Duncan by his waist, and pulled her brothers together in a giant hug. The three of them didn’t talk for some time, it felt like they could understand each other without words, just like they did when they were younger.  
“Now, let’s take a look at this code,” Quigley said, once the hug ended and he got a chance to look at Isadora’s notes.  
“The underlined words are the ones that were changed, right?” Duncan asked, while writing down the words in his commonplace book.  
“Yes,” Isadora confirmed. “Though, as I said before, they don’t make cohesive message together.”  
“Dream, sea, maps, eye, hemispheres, love,” Duncan read the words out loud. “This is a peculiar word combination.”  
“I don’t think it is Verse Fluctuation Declaration code.”  
“You are right,” they both looked at Quigley, who was writing numbers next to the lines of the poem. “It’s not.”  
“Then we are at a dead end after all,” Isadora sighed heavily.  
“Nonsense,” Quigley replied. “Look at all the work you did eliminating all the word based codes. Now we know to try other versions of code, not based on words.”  
“Like the ones based on numbers,” Duncan guessed.  
“Exactly. There was a section dedicated to poetry in the book on maps by L. Snicket, that I have read.”  
“That’s odd,” Isadora said. “Why there would be a poetry section in a book on maps? And how does it connect to numbers?”  
“I wondered that myself. Then again, it was an odd book,” Quigley was talking, but his focus was on counting the words in the stanza lines. “That section explained the code, that was used to calculate coordinates. It’s called Verbally Formulated Decimals.”  
“Verbally Formulated Decimals?” Duncan and Isadora asked together.  
“Yes, the first number would be derived from the line of the stanza and the second would be the word’s number in the line, together they make a decimal number of the cardinal degrees,” Quigley looked at his siblings with his usual smile. “The code hidden in this poem is not a message, it’s coordinates.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to the next chapter, folks!  
> And I kinda adore this chapter! Isadora takes care of her brothers in earlier chapters, so I wanted to write one chapter where they take care of her. I love these three, I really do!  
> I also got to use ellipsis, which is my favourite punctuation mark, so extra points for this chapter. And I got to look up all the names for word play words. Aptagram and semordnilap are real things, I didn't know about before I wrote this.  
> The code itself in my early draft actually made a proper sentence, and was meant to be a message, but it ended up using like five poems and was too confusing. The poem used for the code is John Donne's The Good-Morrow, so you can try and calculate the coordinates, though I doubt they make sense, as the words used are left over from the early draft. The name for the code I came up with at like 3 am in the morning, while trying to figure out where to go next with this fanfic.  
> Anyway I am very happy with how everything turned out so far.  
> Thank you all for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Quagmire triplets rush to the mysterious island.

Light breeze was blowing through Duncan’s hair. He could see the sunlight reflecting in the ocean down below and the white, fluffy clouds passing above. The day was bright and sunny, as it ought to be at the beginning of spring. The horizon was clear, despite them passing the area of the ocean, known for its large and devastating storms. The self-sustaining hot air mobile home was speeding full steam ahead to the mysterious island shaped like an eye. The coordinates from the poetry code have pointed to that location. It was the last unmarked spot on the map that Quigley have drawn and it could have been the place where the Baudelaires were hiding. Such coincidence should have surprised the triplets, but in the past two years too many strange things have occurred to them, to remain surprised.  
Isadora stayed in the library, as she continued to monitor the telegraph for any urgent messages. She also felt inspired to work on her poems. During their time travelling on the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, she wrote enough poems to comprise a book of her own. Quigley was assisting Hector with navigation and putting final touches to his map. Duncan, on the other hand, didn’t have much to do. His investigation of the notes Kit Snicket had left them was complete and he didn’t have any ideas for future articles yet. To keep himself busy, Duncan remained on the bow area of the deck and kept an eye on the weather. His thoughts wandered far and wide, creating different scenarios, possibilities and conversations. What if they did find the Baudelaires on the island? How tall would Sunny be right now? How many books have Klaus read in their time apart? What should he say to Violet? How would she respond? What should he do if he saw the island?  
“It is customary to yell Land!” he heard Quigley say.  
“I didn’t realize, I was talking out loud,” Duncan said, turning around to see Quigley.  
“I only heard your last question,” he explained. Quigley handed Duncan a familiar brass spyglass with VFD insignia. “Here, this should be useful for you to help spot any signs of the storm.”  
“Thanks. Say,” Duncan hesitated to continue. “Say, have you thought of what will you tell Violet, when you see her again?”  
“A greeting is good way to start,” Quigley replied jokingly, but continued in more serious tone, once he saw the expression on his brother’s face. “I haven’t thought about it. I’ll think of something on the spot, I guess.”  
“Of course you will,” Duncan sighed bitterly. “You have your natural charm.”  
“Not more than you, I am afraid. The only difference is I don’t overthink. I ask questions I feel need to be asked. I say things, when I feel like they need to be said.”  
“And does it usually work out well for you?”  
“Sometimes,” he laughed, “and other times I regret what I said.”  
“May be I shouldn’t say anything at all, “ Duncan’s voice sounded heavy. “It’s not like it’ll make a difference…”  
“You don’t know that,” Quigley disagreed. “Neither of us do. But what I do know is that Violet deserves to know how you feel, and you deserve an answer once she knows.”  
Duncan nodded, still not convinced, while Quigley returned to the stern of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. The horizon in front of them remained clear, but Duncan’s thoughts were clouded. Despite his sleepless nights, his endless recreation of their conversations and the scenarios he had played out in his head, Duncan didn’t like the words that came to him. They were too simple, too plain, too honest. His eyes caught a glimpse of something dark green on the ocean surface. He brought the spyglass to his eyes and saw the glistening green leaves, the great tree and the surrounding island. Duncan took a deep breath and yelled “Land!” He heard Quigley’s quick steps behind him, as he ran back from the other side of the deck. He saw Isadora stumbling out of the library basket. They have arrived.

 

“Remind me, why did we let Quigley go alone?” Isadora asked, while staring nervously at the ground underneath.  
“He insisted,” Duncan replied. “Let’s be realistic, out of the three of us, Quigley is the one, who will be most successful in scouting the island. Our talents are way more useful indoors, in the library, rather than out, on the deserted island.”  
“I disagree, I think we did great at running laps,” she retorted. “Still, I don’t like this. This is the first time we have been apart since we rescued him from the Anwhistle Aquatics.”  
“How long has it been?” Duncan wondered.  
“About a year,” Isadora said, her voice slightly shaken.  
The two remaining triplets waited anxiously for their brother to return. Over an hour has passed by, then they heard the rustling of the leaves and saw Quigley climbing back up on the rope ladder. The sense of relief they both felt, was soon replaced by disappointment. He was alone.  
“Nothing?” Duncan pried, as soon as Quigley was back on deck.  
“They were there, for sure. But they left. Fairly recently, from what I could gather,” he spoke quickly, trying to catch his breath. “I think I know the direction that they went, though. We can catch up to them if we hurry up.”  
And hurry they did. Hector pushed the engine of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home to its limits. The triplets assisted him the best they could, while taking turns looking through the spyglass. Each hoped to spot the Baudelaires first, but Quigley turned out to be the lucky one. Duncan could hear his gasp and when he turned to pass the spyglass to Isadora, he saw his brother’s glowing smile. In that moment Quigley’s face appeared softer and younger, as if all the loneliness he had experienced have faded away. Isadora was at the spyglass next, forcing herself not to bite her nails. She let out half-happy half-weeping sound and finally passed the spyglass to Duncan. He brought it up to his eye, took some time to focus and far on the horizon he saw them. A small boat with a white sail. In it was a girl with golden hair tied up in a ponytail, a boy with dark hair, who was wearing glasses, and a girl with long dark brown hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks, we did it!  
> We made it to the point, where my two fanfics finally connect! Holy, what a trip that was... I honestly didn't plan it to take this long or end up being this long, but here we are and I could not be happier. I really enjoy this one despite all the bumps along the way.  
> The very last scene of this chapter was one of the first things I have planned, but being an extremely visual person, I could visualize it really well, but describing was harder, than I thought it would be.  
> So here is where The Search connects to the Reunion, so you could consider it another chapter, or its own thing. I have two more aftermath chapters planned and then we will be done! My partner, also really wants me to write a 'bad ending' for this fanfic, more in style of the books, which I will still do, cause the idea has been planted in my head... However, you can let me know, if you would like to read it and I can add it as a bonus chapter.  
> Thank you to all of you, who stayed with me on this journey, which turned out to be way longer than planned. I'll try to get the last two chapters out soon!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Duncan gets some closure

A day have passed since the Baudelaire siblings have joined the Quagmire triplets and Hector aboard the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. More people on board made the mobile home feel busier, livelier, though a little cramped, but as all of them have had less comfortable accommodations in the past, none truly minded. Klaus happily explored the library basket, either finding familiar books, that he loved, or discovering new books he planned to read. Isadora joined him, as she continued to monitor the telegraph for correspondence, and worked on her poetry. Sunny took over the cooking duties, as that allowed her to learn more new recipes from Hector. Beatrice traversed a novel environment with all her undivided attention. Violet and Quigley were seemingly inseparable. They set up a workshop at the stern of self-sustaining hot air mobile home, so that they could remain close to the steering wheel and monitor the navigation tools, while working on their projects. Quigley continued to complete his map using the information on the eye-shaped island he got from the Baudelaires. Hector had asked Violet to work on building a secondary engine for the self-sustaining hot air mobile home. She couldn’t take apart the existing engine, so she was studying the blueprints in order to make a replica.  
It was a day like any other, maybe a little too grey and a little too windy for the season they were in. Duncan was out on the deck of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, looking over horizon, alone with his thoughts.More and more often he found himself there, as he couldn’t help, but feel left out. His siblings and friends have found a project to work on or an activity to engage in, while he struggled to find one. Duncan was going over all of his previous articles in his mind, hoping to find inspiration for his future work, that is when he heard Violet call his name. Duncan turned around, not sure if what he heard was correct and saw a scene that could have easily been a scene in a movie. The wind has scattered all of Violet’s notes notes around the deck and she was chasing after them. Duncan grabbed ta few pieces of paper that landed near him and passed them over to her.  
“Thanks!” she breathed out in relief, putting the notes in order. “Good thing you were here, or they could have flown overboard and I would have to start over.”  
“Is Quigley busy keeping the materials for his map from being blown away as well?”  
Violet nodded in confirmation. “The wind makes it difficult to work outside, but there is not enough space for all of the notes, and blueprints, and extra articles in any of the baskets,” she stopped, checking the deck for any stray notes, and then added. “I like to work in the fresh air as well, I got used to it on the island.”  
“How is the secondary engine coming along?” Duncan wondered.  
“It’s challenging. I wish I could take it apart. The blueprints are useful, but I get better ideas, once I see the build of the mechanism.”  
“It also must be hard to work without your ribbon,” he noted.  
“It is,” she confessed. “I have been using a string I made out of wool, but honestly, it does not work too well. It's nice to chat with you though, I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we climbed aboard.”  
“I’ve been busy,” Duncan said vaguely.  
“What are you working on?”  
“Gathering new ideas for my articles,” he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye, as he was not being quite honest. Observing the ocean down below was much easier, even though it was grey and dark and not very appealing. “Violet, I…I meant to tell you something…”  
“What is it?”  
With all his courage gathered, Duncan looked up to see Violet smiling warmly and there might have been a hint of curiosity in her eyes. In that instant, he felt like all the words, that were escaping him, finally came. Those words he thought of before. Simple, plain, honest.  
“I am in love with you. I have been from the moment we met. I don’t have a plan, or agenda, or anything. I just wanted you to know.”  
There was a light hint of blush on heir cheeks, but she didn’t look surprised. A strand of hair broke out of Violet’s ponytail and she moved it behind her ear and after what seemed like an eternity, finally began to speak.  
“Thank you, that must have taken a lot of courage. I care for you deeply, I always had and I always will. But I don’t feel the same…”  
“I know,” he replied, hiding his disappointment. “I guess I have failed after all.”  
“Failed? Of course not!” Violet shook her head, which caused her ponytail to break apart. “Duncan, you are so brave, and noble, and kind! You stood up for us in front of Carmelita Spats, in front of the whole school! You took our place on the track, so that we could study. You got kidnapped because of us, instead of us. Without you and Isadora, we would have never made it through our time in Prufrock Prep. And after all of that you still spent all that time searching for Klaus, and Sunny, and I. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for all you have done for us.”  
Duncan smiled and placed his hand on hers. “Don’t worry about it, I was happy to do it all. I could though, if you don’t mind, really use a hug.”  
“Of course,” Violet responded with a small laugh and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They remained like that for a few minutes, reminiscing on all the events that happened to them and all the things they have been through together.  
“Duncan, can I ask you a favour ” Violet inquired, once the hug was over.  
“What is it?”  
“Can we remain friends? I know it might be awkward for sometime, but I…”  
“I can’t believe you have already forgotten,” Duncan interrupted her.  
“What?”  
“What friends are for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Holidays, folks!  
> I was hoping to post this chapter before Christmas, but things got in the way...anyway here it is. I have so much love for this chapter, even though it was again to write. I started writing this story, partially hoping to do better by Duncan. He doesn't get the girl, but he does get some closure, that the best I can do for him at the moment. First love is hard, Duncan, but it gets better.  
> With this part wrapped up, only one chapter remains and I can't wait to share it with you all. I hope to post it before the month ends, but we will see how it goes.  
> Thank you everyone for your kudos and comments and your support! I'll see you all in chapter 11!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Quigley has an odd dream

“Which direction is the Financial District?”  
“75° East.”  
“The Daedalus Dock?”  
“206° South-West.”  
“The Mortmain Mountains?”  
“301° North-West.”  
“Remarkable, darling,” Mother commented, closing down her compass. Her eyes were as bright as the blue sapphire, that marked the north star in the engraving of the little dipper on the brass lid. “Your ability to read cardinal directions is even better than mine! With more practice and time your maps will be some of the most accurate and comprehensive.”  
“You really thinks so?” Quigley asked, feeling a great sense of pride in his work. Mother always put a lot of time in studying maps with him and working on developing his cartography skills, but learning to read the cardinal directions of the compass, was one of their favourite activities.  
“Undoubtedly,” she replied. “Maybe on my next flight, I’ll take you with me as, my navigator.” The triplet smiled happily, as he was putting away the map he was working on. “Where would we go?”  
“Well, Winnipeg is lovely this time of the year,” Mother laughed, as she saw his face fall. “Or maybe we could go to the mountains. After all my very first assignment was there.”  
“Was that when you met Father?” Quigley wondered.  
“It was. I was lost in the woods after my plane had a rough landing. I looked for a way back into the city and wandered into his camp,” she stopped for a moment, trying to recall the distant memory. “As part of his education, he had to camp out in the woods for the night, I believe. We bounded over our love of airplanes and Italian poetry. With his help, I was able to repair the plane and we have never been apart since.”  
“You must have been scared, when you were alone. Before you found father.”  
“A little, but I have learnt a few things that kept me going. Remember Quigley, all cannot be lost when there is still so much being found. When you know what your north star is.”  
“My north star?” Quigley was puzzled.  
“What will be constant and unchanging, what will keep you going and guide you, even through scariest times,” Mother placed her hand on his shoulder. “For me, its my love for poetry and flying, my bond with your father and of course you, Isadora and Duncan. Find your north star, my darling. Come now, it’s time for bed.”

 

Quigley woke up at the break of dawn, dazed by the memory of his dream. He could still feel his mother’s touch on his shoulder and could still hear her voice, as if it was yesterday. Of course, months has passed, since the evening, when she was teaching him how to read the cardinal directions. “My north star,” he murmured to himself, careful not to wake his siblings. “What an odd dream…” The grey clouds from the day before have poured into a heavy rain overnight and got carried away by the wind. The soft sound of rain have lulled all the inhabitants of the self-sustaining hot air mobile home to sleep. Even Duncan was sleeping peacefully. It could have been Sunny’s doing, as she switched his usual evening cup of coffee with camomile tea. Or it could have been something else entirely. The morning felt calm and quiet, the air was crisp and clear after the rain. A bit too crisp, in fact. Quigley shivered and reached for his jacket, but it didn’t help much. He thought that a cup of tea would suit him nicely. On his way to the kitchen basket, Quigley couldn’t help, but stop captivated by the scenery. The mist rising from the ocean was coloured in light shades of pink and purple. The first rays of sun, were banishing the inky blue of the night sky and bringing bright orange and gold into the world. Quigley spotted someone on the bow of the deck. Covered in golden rays of rising sun, wrapped in her warmest sweater, with a steaming mug of tea in her hands, Violet Baudelaire was admiring the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, folks, I was mistaken. It took me two chapters to get to the end, rather than one. They are both not very long, but I like where they break off and I like 12 as a number of chapters, more than 11. So it all worked out.  
> This one was not planned initially, but I needed a bit more breathing space for the story to continue. And I got to write Quagmire mother, which was a great treat! Her interaction with Quigley, reminded me a lot about his interaction with Kit in chapter 1 and I really like that one! I have a head canon, from the way she is portrayed in the show, that she was a pilot and I got to play around with that idea. The whole conversation in Quigley's memory, probably took place, before they got kidnapped in season 1.  
> The final chapter is done as well and will follow shortly. Thank you very much for your patience! Hope you enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it all ends well (and everybody talks a lot, but you already know that by now ;)

“A lovely morning, isn’t it?” Quigley declared, once he joined Violet at the bow of the deck.  
“Indeed,” she agreed. “But any morning is lovely in your company.” The triplet could feel his face grow red, while Violet laughed and gave him a small nudge with her elbow. “I didn’t think you for an early riser. Any reason you are up so early?”  
“An odd dream woke me up,” he replied, still flustered. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”  
“A dream? Not like one of your nightmares?”  
“No, more of a memory, I can’t quite place. I can remember my parents less and less everyday, and yet this one way was so clear…” he stopped once he noticed how painful the expression was on Violet’s face.  
“I know how that feels,” she sighed. Quigley placed his hand on hers and she leaned on his shoulder. They didn’t have their parents anymore, but hey had their siblings and they had each other.  
“Why were you up so early?” He tried to charge the subject to a more cheerful one.  
“I had an idea for an invention,” Violet sipped on her tea, while talking. “I wanted to work on it before everyone woke up.”  
“What was it?” “A kettle that would keep the water hot once it boiled,” she replied. “I thought it would be nice to have hot tea for everyone, when they woke up, but it didn’t work out. I couldn’t gather my thoughts together.”  
“I think, I have something, that could help you,” Quigley reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the poetry book by John Donne.  
“I doubt Renaissance would be of much assistance to me," Violet noted. He didn’t answer, as he flipped through the pages of the book and pulled out a dark purple silk ribbon. Violet face grew into smile.  
“Its wonderful! I love the colour,” she took the ribbon from his hand. “Thank you so much! And I don’t even have anything for you…”  
“Don’t worry about it, the desert island is not the best place for shopping” he said lightheartedly. “Your presence is a gift enough for me. Try it on!” Violet tied her hair up with her new ribbon and Quigley was pleased to see that the colour have complemented her perfectly. With her hair up the thoughts in Violet’s brain have stirred up, and the gears and pulley started moving full steam.  
“Still,” she continued after a pause. “There must be something…something useful…something found…I think I have it! I’ll be right back!” With that she hastily ran toward the basket that the Baudelaires were using as their bedroom. Quigley shrugged, put the book away in his pocket and turned toward the dawn. With sun slowly rising the air started to get warmer, but that cup of tea he initially got up for, would still be most welcome. He was about to head back to the kitchen basket, when he saw Violet rushing back.  
“Here,” she handed him a small object. ‘it’s not much, but let it be in place of all the future gifts.” Quigley gently took the object. It appeared to be a brass locket, quite large for its purpose and very worn. The metal has darkened from the elements and there was a stone missing in an engraving of the little dipper. It must have been encrusted there to symbolize the north star. He could feel tears swell in his eyes, as a sudden guess came to him.  
“Is it a compass?” he asked.  
“Yes,” Violet confirmed his guess. “If you open the lid, there is a quote engraved inside. My father used to say something similar. We didn’t take much from the island, but that compass reminded me of him.” He followed her direction to open the lid and read the quote. ' _All cannot be lost when there is still so much being found_.’ Now the tears were fully rolling down his face. Violet noticed them and placed her hand on his cheek trying to wipe the tears away.  
“Oh, Quigley, I am so sorry. Your gift was so thoughtful and sweet, and beautiful, and I can’t imagine how long you held on to it for me, and all I could find was…” Without word he wrapped his arm around Violet’s shoulder and brought he in for a hug. Quigley could feel her heart beating fast and could hear her still muttering her apologies. “It’s perfect.”  
“I am glad,” she breathed out pressed against his chest. “I love you.”   
“I love you too.”

_And now good-morrow to our waking souls,_  
_Which watch not one another out of fear;_  
_For love, all love of other sights controls,_  
_And makes one little room an everywhere._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Journeys end in lovers meeting_
> 
>  
> 
> Folks, we are done! the final chapter is here and I love it so much! It's not perfect, but I love it none the less. Somebody, please get my boy Quigley some tea, though 😂  
> Anyway, here we are at final chapter, not much left for me to say. I planned it so long ago and changed it so much as I was writing the chapters before, that it looks completely different from my original plan. One of the difficulties I faced is that the big confession comes beforehand, and I was not left with much to wrap this story up. But I feel like it all worked out.  
> For the best experience you can listen to Be with you Always by Mighty Oaks, while reading the chapter. I have a few other songs, that I thin k will work with the chapters, that I'll add to the descriptions later.  
> This series changed me so much in the past year, I feel like I am a different person than I was back in  
> January 2019, when I got to watch Season 3 for the first time. It inspired me to write again, it gave me new ideas for my career in the future, I owe this series so much! and of course I owe a lot to all of you!  
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you, who went with me on this journey! Your support and your kind comments really kept me going!  
> I will take short break, before I do the final edits on the story as a whole and I have at least two more fanfics planned, so keep an eye out!  
> I hope you all enjoyed the final chapter and the story all together. Thank you all!


End file.
